


And Pink Shoelaces

by LupusScintilla (inkandblade)



Series: Bubblegum [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Stiles Stilinski, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Derek Hale & OMC - Freeform, Everyone Is Alive, Everyone is a Werewolf, Human Mates, Implied Mpreg, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced discrimination, M/M, Matchmaking, Mates, Minor Laura Hale/Lydia Martin, Omega Derek Hale, Omega Verse, Past Jennifer Blake/Derek Hale, Past Kate Argent/Derek Hale, Past Relationship(s), Songfic, Werewolf Mates, everyone is human, minor Scott McCall/OC, minor Vernon Boyd/Cora Hale/Isaac Lahey, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-16 22:20:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9292010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkandblade/pseuds/LupusScintilla
Summary: It was Derek’s turn. It had to be. He looked at the comm-disc in his hand. Even if he had to debase himself with going to this damned matchmaking service, he was determined to find his mate.♠





	

Once upon a time, Derek knew, once upon a time he’d have been considered handsome.

If Derek could travel back a few thousand years, back to before ‘Wolf and ‘Man had inextricably mingled, back when Alpha, Beta and Omega meant something completely different, back then what he looked like would have also meant something completely different. His sharp jawline and five o’clock shadow would have invited touch, his broad shoulders and too-big-to-fit-a-hand-around biceps would have been something others had aspired to, or longed for. Now, not so much. Now it just meant that the people who looked at him were the ones he wasn’t actually attracted to.

He’d made the mistake himself, with his ex, Kate. They’d been a textbook storm of stupid assumptions. She’d thought Derek the perfect specimen until the moment it came time to get into his pants. She’d had sex with him once, announced that it and him were disgusting, then left him in a puddle of his own tears and come. She was from a long line of backwards bigots with stupid ideas about gender roles and hierarchies. Now, there was nothing wrong with an Omega who wanted to stay at home and care for a big brood of pups while their Alpha brought home the proverbial bacon. Derek could very much understand the appeal, in fact. There was something wrong with thinking that was the only way it should ever be, however—it was an out-of-date notion that Kate’s whole family still held true. Derek had figured out Kate's designation before they’d made it to the bedroom. He’d decided that as compromise was important in a relationship, he’d just deal. But she’d taken it as a personal affront that her assumption about his gender had been mistaken, and attempted all kinds of bizarre revenge. The restraining order his family had gotten against her hadn’t really worked. She’d ended up on a prison-planet after breaking into his apartment and marking it up with her scent while on a mini-heat.

He supposed that anyone on the outside of his life looking in would have thought he’d back off any kind of dating right then and there. He wanted someone important in his life, however, and he wanted it any way he might find it. Even when he felt a tug in return, the people he met soon discovered that he wasn’t actually what they wanted.

Derek had thought he’d solved the issue when he’d met his other long-term girlfriend, Jennifer. Unlike other dates, she’d not assumed, and he’d been relieved to find someone that didn’t react negatively to his actual gender. He’d been so ridiculously relieved, in fact, that it had taken him months to realize she’d basically been gaslighting him for their entire relationship. Whereas Kate’s poison had been sharp and upfront and bitter, Jennifer's had been slow and underhanded and deceptively sweet. She’d encouraged him to skip workout sessions to go out with her. She’d convinced him to part with most of his favorite clothes under the guise of giving to charity. She’d complained about stubble-burn if he’d not shaved twice a day, but ooh-ed and ahh-ed when his hair reached his collar and cooed when he’d started to grow it out. He’d become smaller and softer all round. It took an offhand remark from someone he’d not seen for a while to wake him up to what had been going on. Derek had been the one to end it with Jennifer. He’d cried again, but this time into his mother’s shoulder, all the while listening to her mumble sweet affirmations about him finally seeing Jennifer for what she was, and promises of what the future might bring now that he understood himself better.

The future was where Derek’s head should be right now, actually. He took the last few steps up to the front of the elevator, and reached into his messenger bag to grab the only thing in it that wasn’t usually there. He would no longer lie to himself about why he exercised; it was just the way he liked to look. He would no longer lie to himself about being same-gender attracted; he just wasn’t. He’d no longer rely on himself to find someone to settle down with, though, either.

Derek's big sister Laura, and her wife Lydia, were both Alphas. They were the perfect match. They were five years bonded, four years married, and planning on adopting, possibly from off-world, not too far in the future. His little sister, Cora, was the Beta of a three-mix bonded throuple with an Alpha, Boyd and Omega, Isaac. They were making it marriage-official at the end of the month. Even Derek’s best friend since childhood, Erica, an Alpha, had maybe-possibly-probably found a Beta to settle her Alpha ways, finally. Kira seemed to ground her.

It was Derek’s turn. It had to be. He looked at the comm-disc in his hand. Even if he had to debase himself with going to this damned matchmaking service, he was determined to find his mate. He’d gone through a short, but hellish, mini-heat to collect the sample that the service required. He’d sent the non-scent-masked-sweat-soaked cotton patch in a tightly sealed vacuu-tube and registered courier. The company had analyzed his hormones, compared them to others, and then found people who were similar to the known samples’ matches. Laura had scoffed and said the process was overly clinical, told him he should just wait for the right person, wait to scent the mate-spark himself. Lydia had, for once, disagreed with her wife—not about the mate-spark, but about the statistics and mathematics. There’d been a very loud discussion over Sunday breakfast at their parents’ house, until Isaac had piped up and said his work friend, Scott, had found his mate through the same service. That had calmed things somewhat, but it wasn’t until they’d heard that the potential matching was to a group, not a single person, that everyone decided it truly sounded okay.

The communication in Derek’s hand instructed him to be at the Sacramento offices of the slightly misnomered _Mate at First Scent,_ at noon. It was currently eleven fifty. The comm-note assured him that he’d not be meeting any actual Alphas until this evening, and suggested that he dress comfortably and casually for the first step. In a few minutes, Derek, and twenty-four other Omegas who shared similar hormone panels to him, would be given an array of sample patches to sniff. Apparently the first exposures to someone’s scent were more effective, so to speak, if there were others around that might be interested in the same person. Tonight, barring the possibility that they hated everything they smelled today, the Omegas would meet the Alphas who'd donated the little squares. That’s where the mate-sparks Laura had been so worried about would hopefully be lit.

The elevator that would take Derek to the seventeenth floor was an express that skipped the first ten levels. The ride was blessedly short, given the looks he was getting from most of the other people in the car he’d gotten into. At the registration desk, he waited patiently in line, one hand holding the comm-disc, the other gripping onto the strap of his messenger bag so that he wasn’t tempted to mess with the collar of his Henley. He’d done what was suggested in the comm-note, and was dressed as casually as he would let himself be in public. The shirt wasn’t new, but it wasn’t worn in enough that he felt completely comfortable in it, it still stretched a little tightly across his chest. His jeans were old and soft, but fairly fitted. He supposed some might think he was trying to show off his body, but that hadn’t been his intent. When his turn finally came, he stepped up to the receptionist’s counter and the woman looked at him the same way most of the people in the elevator had—as if she thought he’d dressed to show off his muscles. Derek held the comm-note forward as an offer of explanation, but the woman on the other side of the desk didn’t even glance at it.

“Good afternoon, sir. I’m afraid you must have your floors mixed up. Our Alpha session is in our other offices, on a lower level. You’ll need to take the elevator back to the first floor, then cross to your left, and take those elevators up to the tenth.”

Derek pushed down the snarl-cum-whimper he felt rising. He, just like everyone else in the room, every other unbonded person on the planet over the age of thirteen in fact, was taking scent blockers. Without a blood sample and lab you couldn’t tell designation any other way. He looked over her head at the blue and orange colored _Mate at First Scent_ logo, and wondered how a company with such good reviews could have such obviously narrow-minded staff.

Derek breathed out and put on his best fake smile and said, “there’s no mistake. I’m Derek Hale, Omega. I’m sure you’ll find my name on your list and my registration details on the comm-disc.” He waved the thing again, forcing himself not to smack the idiot receptionist in the face with it as he did so.

He’d ignored the noises the people behind him in the line had made when he’d first gotten into the elevator with them. He tried to ignore the gasps and snickers now. It wasn’t easy. He wanted to turn heel and run and hide. He pushed the humiliation aside and formed it into anger instead. It was easier to live with. He’d made it to thirty without killing anyone, he could make it to thirty-one.

The receptionist looked down at the vid-screen in front of her and had the decency to look slightly flustered for a moment, but no longer. She lifted her chin and batted her lashes and reached for the com-disc as she said, “May I see some identification, please?”

Derek flared his nostrils and counted backwards from ten. No one else had been required to show the woman anything other than the communication. He had no idea why the receptionist thought an Alpha would want to infiltrate a room full of Omegas and sniff Alpha sweat with them. Then again, he’d heard of some very skeevy Alphas over the years. Perhaps others had tried to sneak-in in a misguided attempt to get a head start on their competition in the mate-finding stakes. Who knew?

Derek held the woman’s gaze as he opened the flap of his bag, found and lifted out his wallet, then flipped it open one-handed to show her his identi-card. She was forced to drop her eyes first, which gave Derek a stupid amount of satisfaction. She tutted and hit something on her keypanel, then finally looked up again.

The receptionist focused to the left of his face as she said by rote, unable to keep the measure of condescension out of her voice, “Mr Hale, the meeting room is down the corridor, second door to the left, just follow the signs. We hope that we’ve found the Scent you’ve been looking for.”

It was obvious when he got there that the conversation they’d had had reached the ears of those in the meeting room as well as those who’d been behind him in the line. Eyes dropped or shifted away from his as he looked around the room. The table was long and oval, without the definite ends a standard boardroom one had. Some of the Omegas had glasses in front of them, and Derek decided a drink was a good idea. He stepped to the far side of the table, filled a cup with water from a cold-water filtered tap, then sat in the seat closest to it. He put his bag on his lap and the cup next to the small notebook and pencil that was in front of him, then pulled out his iPhone10⁴ to check Facebook while he waited. Boyd, Cora and Isaac were having a heated discussion about the merits of syth-hot-dogs. Lydia was judging them every few comments with single, well-chosen emoticons.

Derek’s heart rate had dropped to something closer to normal by the time the last Omega took his seat. Derek switched his phone to silent and slid it back into his messenger bag.

A woman wearing a blazer in the _Mate at First Scent_ corporate colors walked into the room and pulled the door shut behind her. Her teeth were particularly brilliant in contrast to her dark skin as she smiled, and Derek tried to focus on them, rather than the amazingly strong mate-mark she had high on her neck. Even fifty years ago people would have called the highly-visible placement obscene. It was the kind of mark made by Alphas of old on an Omega they wanted to hide away from society. Now it spoke of a different kind of possession—the woman’s mate probably had an equally obvious mark. They probably called them mate-bites when they were asked, forgoing the more politically-correct term. A surge of longing filled Derek’s mind. He’d thought he wanted someone steady, easy. Looking at this woman’s scars, though? He wanted. He craved that strength of match, that exceptional a mate. Derek knew that given the way he looked, he probably needed it too. He probably wasn’t going to find a ‘normal’ match, if there was such a thing.

The woman smiled. “Welcome, Omegas, to your _Mate at First Scent_ sampling session. My name is Marin Morrell and I’ll be your facilitator this afternoon and this evening. I trust you’ve all read the packs we sent you regarding today’s procedures?” She flicked her eyes around the room, looking at every single one of the twenty-five men and women at the table. She didn’t even hesitate when she got to Derek, just smiled as he nodded, and moved her attention to the person sitting next to him. Derek relaxed. “Wonderful. Are there any questions regarding it process?” Morrell put a briefcase on the table as she spoke.

A young man on the opposite side of the table spoke up. “I read the pack, of course, and I understand the reasons behind it in theory, but…” he looked around, barely managing to avoid looking at Derek, “is it really better for us to do this as a group?”

Morrell smiled. “Yes, it is, Mr?”

“Greenberg, Alvern.”

Morrell nodded as she looked over a sheet that she pulled out of an orange folder. Then she focused on the questioner. “Well, Mr Greenberg, let me run over it again quickly.” She waited for him to nod, and several others joined in the movement. “Evo-biologists currently believe that, unlike many other of the traits that we could have inherited from our ‘Wolf ancestors, scent was retained as it was specifically useful for locating our mates. Flashing eye colors and growing claws might be impressive,” there were a few giggles, “but in reality, they tell us nothing that scent can’t, and thus are only seen in the rare person today. Importantly, we can all be taught to use our lazy olfaction properly. A schooled nose can learn everything from the kind of candy a person favors to what their preferred kind of sexual behavior is. Our scents match us physically and emotionally.” She lifted her eyes and looked around the table again.

“You are all, despite your different ethnic backgrounds and social histories, very similar in regards to most of your hormonal markers. Not everything is the same, of course, and some things, both physical and emotional in nature, can’t yet be quantified, even by the best scientific instruments. However, evo-biologists and matchmakers alike know that the best instrument you have for this is your nose, specifically your vomeronasal organ. In the modern world, however, we don’t use them to their best advantage. There’s one easy, non-invasive way to push them into serious action.” She paused, obviously for effect, then said, “competition makes the nose grow stronger.

“Being in the company of others with similar scent profiles makes your body want to be more specific. It wants your nose to focus on the one person, in a room full of people, that is most likely to be the one who’ll trigger your mate-spark. In a moment, I’ll give you each a fast-acting tablet that will partially inhibit the scent-blockers you take daily. It will last about an hour. Exposure to each other’s scents will push your brains into full-on-find-a-mate mode, and it will make it easier for you to distinguish between the scents of twenty-five Alphas that are about to do the same with your scent samples.”

Greenberg nodded then said, “and tonight? We’ll have the same tablets?”

Morrell opened her case and lifted out a vial filled with orange pills. “Yes. The very same. Tonight’s dose will last for twice or three times as long, however. We want you to get to know the Alphas as well as you can in one evening.” She put the vial down, and took a long, segmented vaccu-tube out of her case, then a box of rubber gloves.

The blonde woman next to Greenberg said, “And if none of the scents offered are appealing to us today?”

Morrell’s smile was still there, but her tone was far more serious. “Then you’ll have the fees you’ve paid refunded twice over, and a formal apology. We’ve only had it happen twice in twenty years of business, however. _Mate at First Scent_ is very serious about what we do. We are the most successful matchmaking service in the country for a reason.”

The blonde looked a little more relaxed. As did Greenberg, even if he was still studiously avoiding seeing Derek.

Morrell continued. “Well, if that’s all the questions, we can get started. I’ve got an inhibitor pill and a pair of gloves for you each. Put the gloves on first, just so you don’t forget, then take the tablet and bite it before you swallow. I’ll place the scent patches along the table. You’ll start to notice the effect of the inhibitor in about five or ten minutes. We encourage you to discuss the scents you’ll be experiencing, as it will help push your brain that little bit harder into attempting to delineate between them.”

Morrell put on her own pair of gloves, then walked around the table, handing each set of items to them, watching to make sure no one was having difficulties. Derek was worried that the gloves would be too small, but it wasn’t an issue. The contents of the capsule tasted unpleasantly metallic. Morrell chatted as she walked, making small talk as she distributed the little cotton patches evenly along the length of the table. When she reached the end, she took off her gloves and tossed them into a trash can at the back of the room. She closed the lid on her briefcase and put it against the wall, near the can.

Morrell turned back to the table and when she had everyone’s attention said, “it should begin momentarily. All Alphas have an underlying musk scent, and that’s what you’ll smell first. Then you’ll start smelling the sugary scent you will all be familiar with from your own heats.” She smiled and used both hands to gesture around them. “You are all Omegas, you are all here because you want to find an Alpha. Even if you think you smell your perfect match here, you may find that in person he or she isn’t what they seemed. That’s why you need to meet face to face as well. Just last week in our Beta-Beta match meet and greet we had such success that we woke to news of two new mate-marks the following morning.” Derek joined in the others in their small gasps as Morrell walked to the door. That was, well, that was incredible. A mate-match, overnight. “It doesn’t always happen, but it can. We hope it will for one or more of you. You’ve all got notebooks in front to keep a record or take notes about the scents. And yes, the scent squares are numbered.

“I will leave the room now so you’re not tempted to ask any questions about the Alphas. I’ll be back in an hour unless you call for me before that. Just knock on the door if you need to.”

Then Morrell was gone, and with her, any sense of calm Derek had been feeling. He dared a glance at some the others, not Greenberg, but the handful of people to the man’s right. One of them, a small woman with eggplant-colored hair, smiled at him. She was just a little curvier than could be called voluptuous, and Derek wondered if she felt some camaraderie with him as she didn’t fit into society’s body-type ideals either. He returned her smile, and she glowed. He’d take what he could get.

There was a slight groan, barely audible, from the other end of the table. From one of the first of them that had taken the inhibitor. Derek’s eyes joined the other twenty-three pairs that landed on the guy. The blond’s cheeks were starting to heat and he was fluttering his lashes. Then Derek, and everyone else, apparently, smelled the same thing. Oh. Musk was the right word, but it didn’t say enough about the scent to do it justice. Derek took a couple of deep breaths and savored the experience. On the third or fourth inhalation he noticed the other scent, the sweet one that Morrell had mentioned. It was far more familiar.

Derek startled as the person next to him, a small, lithe man with skin a shade or two lighter than dark chocolate, leaned towards him and blatantly sniffed. The man’s voice was higher than expected when he said, “Mr Greenberg, and anyone else who wants to know? This fine specimen of a man sitting next to me, despite all outward appearances to the contrary, is most definitely as Omega as the rest of us.” He shuffled in his seat a little and turned to face Derek. Derek tried not to blink too hard at him. “I’m Bayden. My apologies, of course for taking that liberty. I may have a stereotypical Omega body, but I’ve suffered my fair share of discrimination because of the color of my skin. I find it easier to tackle the issue head on.”

Derek blinked again and managed a small, “I’m Derek, and, thank you.” He was afraid it had been lost to the room in the chatter that suddenly erupted, but Bayden nodded and smiled. Then they both turned back to join in, and things felt easier, if not earnest. Bayden reached out and grabbed two cotton samples and handed one to Derek. They looked at each other as they tentatively sniffed.

“Oh, my,” Bayden said on the exhale. “This is one hell of a woman. Strong and sassy like my mother, I’d say. Something to look forward to!”

“This one just smells like mountain man,” said Greenberg. He shuddered a little as he added, “I’m a little worried that there’s more than just sweat on this, actually. Is it wrong that that doesn’t bother me too much?”

There was a chorus of giggles, which Derek realized he was also contributing to. It was a strange feeling. After all Jennifer had done to make Derek more Omega-like, all she’d probably needed was a slightly stinky piece of cotton to make it happen. They passed around the samples amongst soft comments and light laughter, with the occasional slightly smutty or out-there remark that was followed by a general snicker or guffaw.

There was an unspoken agreement to not turn the patches over to look at the numbers. Each sample made its way around to each Omega several times over, but in no apparent order. No one was outright screwing up their nose— _Mate at First Scent_ wouldn’t be handing over refunds to anyone in this group, at least—but there were obviously squares that each of the Omegas were handling more than others.

“It’s almost time.” The eggplant-haired woman’s voice carried over the chatter of the rest of the group. Everyone looked up at each other. “Perhaps,” she put down the cotton square she was holding and reached for the little notepad in front of her, “we should turn the damn things over now? Take down some numbers before we lose the ability to tell the difference?”

The blond guy said, “Sounds like a plan. I know I’ve got five, at least, that I’ll be paying more attention to tonight. How about we just move them all clockwise? We can’t miss any that way.”

There were mutterings of agreement. Derek tightened the grip on the square he was currently holding a little harder. They’d all smelled good, but there were only really two of the twenty-five that he truly felt drawn to. There was one that was levels above even the other he preferred, though—the one in his hand. He’d liked it the first time he smelled it, but found himself more and more drawn to it each time it found its way back to him. Bayden and the woman on Derek’s right, who’d not introduced herself, both said it smelled slightly burnt to them, a little acrid. Derek couldn’t disagree, but it found it made this particular sample stand out above the rest. He liked the slightly smoky feeling it left on the back of his palate. He’d watched Greenberg pick it up and almost choke, and his neighbors had wrinkled their noses too. Given that it looked exactly the same as all the others, though, Derek hadn’t managed to see if anyone else liked it as much as he did.

He reached for the pencil, grabbed the notebook, and flipped it open one handed. Derek was apparently feeling a little possessive about the damn piece of cotton. He turned it over and saw _24_ stuck to the back. He wondered a moment how the little sticker was still attached after so much handling, but decided it really didn’t matter. He wrote the number down, and reluctantly handed the sample off to Bayden. In the end, he had _24_ , _6_ and a hastily added _9_ on the lone piece of paper. That was definitely an order of preference. He’d only included the last one as a quick look around told him that most of the others he could see had at least four on their lists.

It took around five minutes for everyone to have their numbers recorded, and another five for Morrell to appear. She thanked everyone, reminded them of the time they needed to be at the nearby hotel’s function room for the meet and greet, and told them to find lunch and get some rest before the big event.

Derek did just that, walking out with Bayden and the eggplant-tressed Kitty when she followed them to introduce herself. They had all booked rooms in the hotel where the meet and greet was being held, so they decided against stopping for lunch until they got there. They chatted about basic get to know you stuff as they ate, and then allowed themselves a few comments on the process they’d just been through. Derek let them convince him that even if he found his perfect match tonight, he should definitely take the time to complain about the receptionist’s treatment of him. Kitty had eventually given in to Derek and Bayden’s urging and they’d shared their list of possibles. They only had one number in common, _6_. Bayden had it as his first choice, Kitty as her fourth. They parted ways with several hours to spare before they needed to meet again.

Derek spent the rest of the afternoon trying to relax, but failing pathetically. He eventually tired himself out by trying to see how many pushups he could do before his muscles gave out. He broke his record. After that he managed a restless hour and a half with his eyes closed, waiting for the alarm on his phone to ring. He took his time getting ready, washing his hair, pressing his dress shirt, deciding to wear the tie Lydia had insisted he bring, and shaving twice. He still finished early. He spent the last fifteen minutes straightening everything he’d hung in the little closet and tidying in general.

Derek arrived at the function room second to last of the Omegas. He took the offered sparkling water a waiter presented and used it to chase down the pill he was handed. It tasted just as nasty this time. He joined Bayden and Kitty and learned that the Alphas were apparently already inside the room, instructed to arrive a little early so that they’d have the extra time they needed to feel the room out. It was supposedly a throwback to the ‘Wolf in them needing to establish territory when around potential mates. Morrell waited until Greenberg appeared a few minutes after Derek, and then gathered them around in the little lounge they were occupying.

“Good evening, everyone. I’m glad to see you all made it. You all look absolutely lovely.” She sounded as if she meant it. She’d freshened up, but was still dressed as she had been in the office. She apparently wouldn’t be joining them in socializing, at least. “We’ll move inside in a moment. The Alphas have had a fifteen or twenty minutes’ start on you, so they should be feeling relaxed in the space and have their noses in top form.” She held out a sheet of something. “These are standard sticky labels with your first name printed in large font, and your assigned number in a smaller one. The room we’re about to go into has basically the same layout as this one. Some chairs, a few low tables, some high ones with stools. There will be drinks and finger foods for you to enjoy. Mingle. Chat. Don’t focus too much on the numbers on the Alpha’s nametags, but don’t be too shy about checking to see if you’ve found the same person just your nose thought you’d be interested in.” Derek took the name-label sheet when it was handed to him, and saw that he’d apparently been known to the Alphas as sample _4_. He stuck it on his lapel.

One of the double doors behind Morrell opened a little, and a man poked his head out. “Marin, we’re all settled.” Morrell took half a step sideways, and the man came to step beside her. “My name is Alan Deaton, I’m the Alpha facilitator this evening. It’s wonderful to see you all.” There were mutterings of hello, and the man continued, “Marin has already informed you, but the scent-blocker inhibitor you’ve just taken will last two to three times as long as the one you took earlier. Be assured, however, that it’s the same strength you took this afternoon. It doesn’t completely undo the scent-blocker you take in your day to day life. You’ll sense enough to know you are in a room full of Alphas and Omegas, but in order to really know who you are talking to you’ll have to be within at least arms distance. You are all here to meet someone you’d like to get to know better, and we want you to do just that. Myself, Marin, and any of the staff you interact with tonight are all using extra-strong blockers, to make sure there’s absolutely nothing in your way.” He looked sideways at his colleague.

Marin took up the spiel. “I mentioned last week’s overnight Beta-Beta match to you this morning for more than just inspiration. It does happen. If you make an instant bond-connection tonight, you’ll know exactly what is happening to you. Whether it happens on the street, at a spaceball game or at a meet and greet like tonight, there is no mistaking the mate-spark feeling.” She breathed in and out and looked very, very happy to be sharing the information. “We’re pleased that you all chose to stay in this hotel tonight, but some of the Alphas have rooms in other locations. If you find yourself needing private space with your special other, we advise you to head straight to your own room. We have baskets of useful goodies available that you probably didn’t think to pack in your suitcases.” She motioned to a box next to the door Deaton had walked through. It had a condom and lube company’s logo on the side. Derek felt his face heat. He’d definitely not thought of that. The nervous giggles around him said he wasn’t the only one. Marin smirked. “Remember, if you do meet the one tonight, your Alpha won’t be as lucid as you. She or he will, however, be very much wanting to do just as you ask. Use that power for good and put that little basket to good use!” She grinned.

Deaton nodded. “Marin is right. Remember, instant connections are rare. We won’t be disappointed to not see one, and none of us should expect it. Most couples and throuples find they grow into each other’s scents, although _Mate at First Scent_ has taken the first several steps for you. Now, has the air begun to seem sweet for you all?” Derek nodded along with everyone else. “Excellent. It’s time for you to meet your potential matches. We hope we’ve found the Scent you’ve been looking for. Please follow me.”

Derek glanced at Bayden and Kitty, and fell in step with them as they entered. It wasn’t exactly a wall of scent, but there was an overlying sense of musk hanging in the air in the second room. For a few moments the only sound in the space was the sucking of air. Then there were wait staff moving about, and drinks being offered.

“Wow,” said Bayden, surveying the room. Derek couldn’t have put it better. “I thought you two scrubbed up nicely, but look at this lot.”

Kitty laughed, “I’d take offense at that, but I’m pretty sure I agree with you. Any objections to his statement, Derek?”

Derek felt himself smile. “None whatsoever.”

They tried, and failed, to look around at all the Alphas surreptitiously. They weren’t the only ones being obvious, though. There were a pair of guys in a corner, matching each other's movements perfectly, checking out every Omega in perfect synchronicity.

Bayden apparently noticed them too as he said, “Oh, boy. Twin-overhead-hotness ahoy.”

Kitty snapped her head around. “Well, that would explain why I had so much difficulty picking between the top two samples on my list. They look like they’re identical.”

Derek thought that identical twins had exactly the same DNA, and thus the same scent profiles. “Wouldn’t that mean they gave identical samples?”

Kitty looked back at him quickly and said, “maybe they work in different enough places that they’ve absorbed different environs? Either way, I’m off to find out. Wish me luck!”

Derek watched her saunter over to the twins, and saw them meet her with equally wide grins. That would be an interesting situation. Was it even legal? An Alpha-Omega-Alpha throuple was a little unusual in itself, but one that contained a sibling pair was quite something. Derek wasn’t usually one for gossip, but he found himself glad that he had Kitty’s number in his phone, just so he could find out how that ended up. He dragged his eyes away from the group when Bayden snorted beside him.

“Oh, my. Now that, that’s different.”

The man Bayden was referring to was, despite the frankly absurd outfit he was wearing, gorgeous. Derek couldn’t figure out what to focus on. He forced himself to look at what everyone else was apparently staring at first. The man had on a well-cut pair of charcoal suit pants and a crisp white shirt, but had quite possibly had a niece or nephew choose his accessories for him. The tan leather shoes were obviously good quality, but had hot-pink shoelaces that were flat, not round. His vest was almost the same color as the laces, with alternating black and white polka-dots. He’d topped it all off with a huge, gray panama hat with a lurid-purple band.

Derek took a deep breath and ignored the wrapping. The weirdly dressed Alpha was tall, probably an inch or two more than Derek, with pale skin, a wanton-looking rose-bud mouth, and a frame that some might find a little too lithe for an Alpha, but looked damn good in Derek’s eyes. The guy’s angles were in all the right places, his shoulders wide, and those eyes. When the Alpha looked up and caught Derek’s gaze, Derek could have sworn he saw the caramel-brown morph into something deeper, redder.

“Derek, you in there?” Bayden raised an eyebrow when Derek finally looked at him. “If you’re that taken from this distance, why don’t we go over and talk to them. You take the guy in the hat, I’ll talk to his gorgeous friend. You think he’s Asian? Polynesian?” Derek looked back up at the Alphas, and Bayden took the words out of his mouth, “oh! Never mind, they’re on their way over here.”

The darker skinned guy arrived a step or two ahead of the other and reached out to shake Derek’s hand. When he shook Bayden’s he didn't seem to want to let go. Derek breathed in and thought, Sample _6_ , and so did Bayden if the look on his face was anything to go by.

The Alpha finally let go and dropped his arm, and they could finally see that his name tag read _Danny_ , with a tiny number _6_ underneath it. “Hi, I’m, well, you can see I’m Danny. We couldn’t help overhear. My family’s from Hawaii, actually.” He shuffled to the side a little to let the other Alpha stand beside him, and Derek stepped back without thinking about the fact that it might seem rude. But neither Danny or the new Alpha seemed to notice, both focusing on Bayden.

Danny smiled wide and said, “This, as you probably can’t read through the mess of pen scribbled over his name, is Dooley.”

The other Alpha, the gorgeous but horrifically dressed Alpha, shook his head with the same rhythm he used to shake Bayden’s hand. “I’m not, actually. The lovely ladies and gents I spent the afternoon with decided they couldn’t say my real name, but didn’t like my nickname, and decided to give me a different one.”

“That’s because Stiles isn’t an adult nickname,” Danny snorted.

Bayden stared at the new Alpha’s chest a moment, and Derek felt a tiny-growl rise in his throat.

Bayden said, “Your actual name is Do-, Dobi-? What?”

The gorgeous Alpha grinned. “Indeed.”

Derek focused on the nametag attached stuck to the garish vest as the Alpha stepped forward. He could just make out the original lettering. As he reached out his hand he said, “it’s a pleasure to meet you, Dobiesław. I’m Der-”

Just before their hands touched they both breathed in and several things happened at once. Derek’s words got drowned out by the veritable whine that rose out of his Alpha’s throat as the man said, “you’re four.” His Alpha’s eyes shone red. Derek’s eyes must have changed too, as the rest of the room suddenly seemed to be bathed in a blue-tint. He felt, deep inside, something snap into place, like it had been drawn away and too tight for too long and was finally just now settling back to where it needed to be.

He finally knew what the phrase mate-spark really meant.

After a few heartbeats, Derek was vaguely aware of Bayden and the other Alpha, Denny? Danny?, and everyone else, stepping away.

“I’m four?” Derek whispered. He couldn’t get enough oxygen. He let his Alpha—Stiles or Dobiesław or Dooley, it really didn’t matter—pull him in. It was easier to breathe now that they were closer together. His head cleared and he realized what his Alpha meant. “Oh, yes. That was my sample number. I’m guessing you were twenty-four?”

His Alpha nodded as much as he could, considering he now had his face pressed into Derek’s neck. The guy’s hat was somewhere on the floor. Derek could see the rich-brown, closely-cropped hair it had hidden. He had the urge to lick it, but managed, barely, to refrain. He pressed a kiss into the whorl at the back of the guy’s head instead.

His Alpha sighed, and relaxed just the right amount to pull away from Derek’s skin enough to say one word.

“Mate.”

Derek shivered at the sound, knowing that it was true. “Yes. Mate. We, should…” He knew what they should do, but he frankly didn’t want to let go long enough to get to his room where they could. He knew he had to somehow get his room’s access-card out of his pocket, and get from where they were to a completely different level of the building, without getting naked in between, and manage to hold on to one of the sexy care-packets waiting for them outside the door as they rode the elevator.

Derek tried to relax himself, hoping that his Alpha would copy. It worked.

His Alpha turned enough to push a kiss of his own into Derek’s skin, just below his ear. “I’m going to mark you right there, and you’re going to mark me in the same place. We’ll wear our bites high enough for all the world to see.”

Derek barely managed to breathe out a, “yes,” before he had them walking out the door, via the box of supplies. He put a pack in each of his Alpha’s hands so that they were both occupied with very important things that weren’t molesting Derek’s body in public. Once they were safely ensconced in his room, they’d have plenty of time to do it in private.

 

 

♠

 

Stiles felt his eyes open, yawned and took a deep breath, and holy orgasms Batman, all he could smell was sex. He closed his eyes again and made himself concentrate on his body and where he was lying.

He was on his right side, that leg stretched out straight, the other one lying across a wide, hot body. He shifted it a little and felt the hair on his thighs drag against that on his mate’s. He breathed in again and tried to untangle some of what he was sensing. It was a heady mix of the chemical tang of lube, the thick smell of stale sweat, and an overlying scent of Alpha and Omega, the last something Stiles hadn't experienced until the night before.

Stiles rolled the shoulder he wasn't resting on and felt the sting of the wound high on his neck. He smiled. It would be a handsome scar, as far as he was concerned. He’d always known deep in his gut that his match would be special and, despite them being tinted by the redness of the mate-spark induced high he’d been on, last night’s memories proved it.

The Omega curled next to him was stunning. He had that seriously old-school movie-star beauty that had been popular a few thousand years ago. Stiles loved the old films you could get from the late 1900s, and had long had some of their leading-men as his favorite fantasy material. Now he had that snuggled up to him. Stiles had spent a good deal of last night just rubbing his face along the Omega’s sharp jaw and soft-to-the-touch stubble.

They’d fucked face-to-face, and Der—that was at least the beginning of his Omega’s name—had mate-bitten him first, right as Stiles had entered him. Their first time hadn’t lasted too long, and Stiles’ had returned the bite as they came one after the other only a minute or two later. Stiles realized now, with his head clear of overbearing hormones, that it hadn’t been a good choice of positions to tie in. It’s not like he had any experience of knotting someone before though, and he wouldn’t change a thing if it meant their bites were in different places, or had happened in a less equal manner.

Stiles opened his eyes again and looked at the red wound on his mate’s neck. It was probably bigger than the one Derek had given him, Alpha bites usually were. Stiles wondered if the one on his own neck showed the same obvious canine marks as the one he was staring at. If Der’s ‘Wolf-blue eyes were any indication, they’d probably be there. Stiles resisted the urge to lean in closer. They were both quite ‘Wolfy’, that was almost certain, but he didn’t know if Der embraced that side of himself outside of sex or heats, so Stiles didn’t want to push it by doing something silly like licking the guy’s healing wound. It at least looked as if it was clean and uninfected. They should probably shower soon, though, just to be sure.

Stiles closed his eyes again and let himself drift. He didn’t want to wake his Omega if the guy needed sleep. It was Saturday, so he probably didn’t need to be anywhere, and this room was booked for tonight, too. Stiles had been so damn proud of himself last night, managing to get across, even in his dazed state, that his room was the one they should head to. Hopefully it hadn’t disappointed. And hopefully, later today, when he explained himself, his Omega would find it charming, or sexy, or at least hopelessly endearing, that straight after the scent sampling session yesterday Stiles had rushed back to the hotel and upgraded his room to the honeymoon suite; the scent on sample number four had been slightly stale, and no-where near as strong as Stiles would have liked, but he’d just known. Hopefully it would make up for the fact that the Omega had been accosted by the least stylish guy in the room.

Stiles blinked himself fully awake again when he felt the body beside him beginning to stir. Der yawned and pushed himself further into Stiles’ side, then looked up at him from under long, heavy lashes and said, “Good morning, Alpha.”

Even the man’s voice was wonderful.

Stiles couldn’t help the smile he felt spreading across his face as he answered, “‘Morning, beautiful.” Oh, and that was a blush he hoped he could expose more often. “I hate to ask this when you’ve just woken up, but it’s almost check-out time. I’ve got this room for another night, so, well,” he hoped this didn’t sound too forward, “do you want to go and get your things and bring them up here? Even if you can’t, or don’t want to stay with me tonight, we could leave your things here and go for lunch, or…”

His Omega raised one perfect eyebrow and said, “You’re quite sensible when you’re not hormone addled.”

It was Stiles’ turn to blush. He really had been out of it last night, just one sniff and… well. Der didn’t look as if he was judging, though. “That’s me! Stiles Stilinski, Señor Sensible.” Damn, he always fell into atrocious alliteration when he was anxious.

Der grinned. “Well, then, Señor Stilinski, it’s a pleasure to finally know your full name. I’m Derek Hale.” He glanced down to where they were wrapped around each other and back up again. “I’d shake your hand, but it seems a little redundant.”

They managed to roll out of the bed together, and Stiles shooed Derek into the shower. He paused before he joined his Omega to call the front desk to see if they could have a special breakfast brought up, and ask if they could allow an extra hour or so for Derek Hale—sexy name, sexy guy—to check out. The reception shocked Stiles by being surprisingly informed of the situation, and let him know that it wasn’t a worry. Apparently, they’d been told to expect something like this by the matchmaking agency. Stiles would need to write _Mate at First Scent_ a comm-note thanking them for their thorough service.

He soon forgot all about them, and the reception, when he joined Derek in the shower. They managed to get each other off once with soft shower-kisses and slow hand jobs before they were interrupted by a knock on the door. They wrapped themselves in hotel bathrobes and fed each other mouthfuls of pancakes and syrup and shared coffee flavored kisses. Derek looked sated and as sweet as their breakfast had been.

Stiles thought he should probably get the apologies out of the way before they spoke about much else. He sucked in a deep breath, the movement strong enough that it caught Derek’s attention. Stiles decided that straight-out was the best approach. Their scent-match didn’t just mean they were physically compatible, it went a whole lot deeper than that, and as Stiles wouldn’t want to be kept in the dark, he was guessing Derek wouldn’t either.

Stiles swallowed and said, “I’m sorry.”

Both of Derek’s eyebrows rose this time. He looked genuinely perplexed as he glanced at their plates, cups, and then back at Stiles. “For what?”

Stiles was pretty sure he was never going to live this down. He sucked in air again and it all came out in one breath. “For being the least attractive Alpha in the world and making it worse by dressing like an idiot. You must have been so embarrassed to have been seen with me. Hell, I was embarrassed to be seen with me! But I lost the bet fair and square and I couldn’t back down, and my best friend—”

Derek cut him off with a kiss. It was just a simple press of the lips, but here, now, surrounded by the scent of what they’d done last night, and faced with eyes that glowed Omega-blue again it said so much. Stiles sighed and Derek leaned back, apparently satisfied.

“I may have to take back what I said about you being sensible, Alpha.” Derek kissed Stiles again, a little harder this time, lifting a hand to lay it just below the bite he’d left the night before. He gripped Stiles shoulder and squeezed, and then drew back from the kiss,  pressing their foreheads together. “I left with the most handsome, and um,” he licked his lips, “most uniquely dressed Alpha in the room. I wouldn’t have had it any other way. I will admit I prefer you naked. Though,” he tilted his head and looked at where Stiles had dropped his clothes on the floor, “I could be persuaded to like the vest if you didn’t wear anything else with it.”

Stiles’ body felt like it had melted all over. “That’s, that not objectionable.” He put the image it conjured out of his head so he could concentrate on the apology and explanation. “I really did lose a bet. It wasn’t a good bet to lose, but still.”

Derek sat back, dragging his hand down Stiles’ skin from his shoulder to his hand. He threaded their fingers together and rested his head on Stiles’ shoulder. “Are you going to make me ask?”

Stiles lifted their hands to his lips and put a big, loud kiss on the back of Derek’s hand before he answered. “My best friend found his mate with the same service we used. I gave him so much shit for it. When he finally talked me into trying it, I bet him that the company would send back a comm-disc saying they couldn’t find even a basic scent match for me. They did, of course, and I had to pay for being wrong by wearing what my three-year-old goddaughter deemed pretty-enough-to-impress-a-date to the function last night.” He looked at Derek. His Omega was currently grinning wide. Stiles poked him. “It’s not funny. I had to send a picture to them last night from the room downstairs to prove I’d not left it all in the room. I was terrified that all the Omegas, especially the one whose scent had me change my room to the honeymoon suite,” Derek squeezed his hand and snuggled in closer, “would take one look at me and stay the hell away. I have the distinct feeling this morning that Scott knew it wouldn’t matter, the bastard.”

Derek eyes glowed again and he leaned in and licked a line across Stiles’ shoulder and up his neck, then started laving at the mate-bite. Stiles growled low, like a purr, in response and Derek dragged his teeth along the space inside the bite.

“You could have been wearing a fake-grass skirt and a sequined space-helmet and I’d have felt the same. No matter how you’re dressed, you’re it. I get my once upon a time and my happily ever after.”

Stiles couldn’t help it, he pushed his Omega back on the sofa they’d been sitting on, and showed him just how happy an ever after they’d have.

 

**Author's Note:**

> As writers we often use the A/B/O gender spectrum/designations to reflect or comment on gender and sexuality in the real world, but sometimes we fuck up when we do. If anything in this fic is offensive or triggering, it is not my intention. I’ve tried to tag as best I can; please let me know if I’ve missed anything.
> 
> Thanks to penthenotficwriter for the mini-beta, and hikarinotsubasa for the support. All mistakes, idiocy and general not-coolness are my own.
> 
> ♠ 
> 
>  
> 
> **This piece of Bubblegum was inspired by Tan Shoes & Pink Shoelaces - Dodie Stevens: [Lyrics](http://www.oldielyrics.com/lyrics/dodie_stevens/pink_shoe_laces.html), [YouTube](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WGgaZZl_GVg).**
> 
>  
> 
>  Find me on [Tumblr](http://inkandblade.tumblr.com/).
> 
>  _edited 2017 01 18_ \- corrected to Señor, not Senõr - which is honestly what I thought I'd done, but obviously hadn't. Thanks to stepmc for pointing it out to me in the comments.  
>  _edited 2017 01 18_ \- corrected to outlay to layout. Thanks to deerintheheadlights for pointing it out to me in the comments.


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